


Frodo's Fantasy

by Ithiliana



Series: Actor/Character Fantasies [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 22:40:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithiliana/pseuds/Ithiliana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>his fic is part of a series of "paired" fantasies (those of characters paired with those of the actors who portrayed those characters in the film).</p><p>This idea was inspired by a line in a story by Nienor ("Entr'acte", #22 of the "Shut Up" Series over at the "Lair of the Evil Bitches."  In that story, Orlando, sort of caught between Sean Bean and Viggo, thinks that Legolas wants BOTH Boromir and Aragorn, any way he can get them although that's not what ORLANDO wants.  It's one line, but brilliant (IMHO!).</p></blockquote>





	Frodo's Fantasy

It didn't seem so bad at first, leaving the Shire with Sam, then Merry and Pippin. It was just the four of them, and then Aragorn joined them. He told them what to do, protected them. Frodo rubbed the cold spot on his shoulder that still marked the wound he'd taken on Weathertop. He'd be dead if Aragorn hadn't been there. And then when they left Rivendell, there'd been Gandalf as well. Frodo didn't have to be responsible for everything.

But Gandalf fell in Moria. And Frodo had chosen to leave the Fellowship. He'd be all alone if Sam hadn't insisted upon coming along as well. Sam's love was so strong that Frodo was glad they were going to Mordor together.

But sometimes on the deepest and darkest of nights as they struggled through the Emyn Muil, Frodo thought it might almost be easier if Sam wasn't there. Wasn't so determined that Frodo was the master. Didn't so depend upon him to make the decisions. Didn't trust him to always do what was right.

On those nights, as Frodo sat his turn on watch, it was easy to retreat into a fantasy in which he didn't have to be the master.....

* * * * * * *

_Merry and Pippin, holding Frodo between them, knocked at the green door of Bag End. Sam answered, frowning._

"So where was he this time?" he asked before letting them in.

"The Green Dragon," Merry said.

"Bring him in," Sam said, standing back. "First to the kitchen."

Merry and Pippin hustled Frodo through the door, the parlor and into the welcoming warmth of the kitchen.

Frodo shivered in anticipation. As far as the rest of the world knew, he was Master Frodo Baggins of Bag End. But as the four of them knew, Sam was the real Master. He made the rules. And once in a while, just for fun, Frodo broke them.

Following them in, Sam went to the corner where he kept the willow switch for just this sort of situation.

"Do you see that my nice dinner was totally ruined? You'll have to be punished properly tonight, Frodo. Strip him and put him over that bench," he said to Merry and Pippin.

They did. From experience, Merry held his hands and Pippin his ankles.

The switch whipped through the air, stinging against flesh. Merry counted under his breath. At seventeen, Frodo could feel the warm trickle on his thigh. Sam always stopped when he drew blood.

The switch, stained with his blood, appeared under Frodo's face.

"Clean it." Sam ordered.

Whimpering, Frodo licked it clean, the bark rough against his tongue. He could feel himself hardening against the seat of the bench.

Frodo could hear Sam rummaging on the shelves.

"Here, Pippin," Sam said, and Frodo's ankles were released. He didn't move.

"Apply the salve."

Pippin's hand, gentle and slick, smoothed the salve over Frodo's wound, then moved out to trace the welts Frodo knew marked his skin. Frodo tried to relax, knowing what would happen next, but Pippin was good at varying his timing. Frodo cried out as Pippin suddenly thrust two fingers, slick with the salve, into him.

"Take him into the master bedroom. And use this," Sam said.

Merry and Pippin pulled him to his feet. Then they marched him to the master bedroom where a spacious bed with clean sheets and lots of comforters and pillows stood in the center of the room. Sam was very good at housekeeping.

There were also ropes permanently knotted around each of the four bedposts.

But before typing him face-down on the bed as usual, Merry had Pippin hold him a moment while he tied a leather strip around his erect penis, close to his body. Frodo whimpered. Sam hadn't done this in a while!

Within a few moments, he was tied to the bed, face-down, each arm and leg attached to a different bedpost. Frodo heard Sam enter the room, then the rustling of clothes as the hobbits undressed.

Sam's hand caressed his rear, fingers running down his cleft.

"Are you sorry?"

Frodo wiggled as much as he could, eager for the next stage of his punishment. He didn't speak.

Sam slapped him sharply. "He's very defiant tonight. Each of you, take him as many times as you can. And remember, I'll be watching."

The bed tilted as Merry and Pippin climbed on. In turn, Merry first, they each took him twice. Frodo writhed against them, refusing to speak, though the binding that kept him from climaxing was exquisite torture.

After a sarcastic comment by Sam, Merry managed a third time.

Frodo waited, breathing hard, for the final stage, and was rewarded by Sam ordering Merry and Pippin back. Then, finally, Sam climbed on the bed.

His strong hands probed Frodo, who moaned, sensitive to the slightest touch. Slowly, Sam entered him. He was much larger than Merry or Pippin, and Frodo tried to thrust up against him. He was rewarded by a slap and an order to keep still. Trembling, he waited.

Sam braced himself above Frodo's body, not moving, despite Frodo's moans.

"Are you sorry?"

Finally, Frodo spoke. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry, please, yes, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I promise," babbling the words that would gain him what he wished this time, the unspoken phrase "until next time" burning in his brain.

At last he achieved what he'd sought, Sam's heavy body pressing down on his, his warmth and strength protecting Frodo from everything outside, his deep thrusts proclaiming his mastery of the Master of Bag End.

* * * * * * *

As the Sun came up over the jagged Mountains in the East that separated them from Mordor, Frodo sighed. He wiped his face, then stood up to wake Sam for another day of travel. They had to find their way down off the Emyn Muil soon.

**Author's Note:**

> his fic is part of a series of "paired" fantasies (those of characters paired with those of the actors who portrayed those characters in the film).
> 
> This idea was inspired by a line in a story by Nienor ("Entr'acte", #22 of the "Shut Up" Series over at the "Lair of the Evil Bitches." In that story, Orlando, sort of caught between Sean Bean and Viggo, thinks that Legolas wants BOTH Boromir and Aragorn, any way he can get them although that's not what ORLANDO wants. It's one line, but brilliant (IMHO!).


End file.
